Fall is my favorite season but they all have a purpose and beauty. 10-12-22.
Every hour we are someone Different, Every day something new Learned, Death is just another
Remember the night we took your mother’s car and drove over the skyway bridge? The moon was a bright light to show the way.
As we shared stories, The warm hum of voices heard, A cup of love spilled.
Holy Holy Morning glory Blooming in a haze Of purple light. Holy Holy
Unable to be all things For all people, Perhaps at one time, I tried. Those days are
I heard past generations In my son’s voice, I saw his life fly Into another dimension, A place, I can only imagine.
Time is going by fast, Trying not to live in the past, To keep priorities straight And not falter at the gate. To join the universal goal
Mr. R. would talk about his deceased brother, he dreamed about him frequently; also of an eagle
On a walk this morning, the rocky cliffs that reach the blue-green sea, talk of strength today.
Brown hawk with spotted tail, soaring on the wind, balancing like a sail. Your piercing cry
Sometimes wonder about a star, way afar. How life might be in outer space,
Life is but a dream, our fantasies, spill, like liquid tears that pool and vaporize into the air.
In the dead Of Winter, I long for Spring. In the rains Of Spring,
Leaves falling, Another season Decorating the earth. One red leaf In my path,
When I first heard “The Blackbird,” In the middle Of night, I was just thirteen.